An End to Journey Toward (The Journey of A Thousand Miles Remix)
by Salomedancing
Summary: Xenophilius Lovegood was willing to betray Harry Potter to save his daughter. Now the war is over and he has to face the consequences of Luna finding out what he did.


**AN: This is a remix of igrockspock's excellent _The Journey of A Thousand Miles_ , written for Remix Me. I very much recommend it, but you can read my fic even if you haven't read that one. Warm thanks to bunn for beta-reading.**

Xenophilius Lovegood had always prided himself on being a man with high ideals and the guts to stand up for them. A lifetime of believing what no one else believed, had made it easier to stand up for what was right, and he did not do it quietly. He never hesitated a moment in making "The Quibbler" emphatically pro-Harry. It was his part in the fight against the Dark Lord.

All those things he had believed about himself, crumbled and died the day Yaxley sauntered into his office, casually wondering if he was sure Luna was still on her way to Hogwarts. Xenophilius had been busy editing the next issue of the paper and hadn't even noticed his unwelcome guest until Yaxley spoke. He didn't even have to come with threats, Xenophilius agreed to do anything to keep Luna safe, even before he knew what 'anything' would entail.

When Yaxley had left, Xenophilius remained seated, staring out into nothing for a long time. His office looked the same, heaps of old issues and papers towering hazardously around him. The photos of his late wife and Luna. Fan letters spilling out of an old cupboard and every surface littered with old quills, empty coffee cups and souvenirs collected on his travels. But the whole world had changed. It slowly dawned on him he had agreed to work against, no, not even that, to betray, one of the persons he admired most in the world. And not only that, he had agreed to betray a child. He felt nauseous when he thought of how readily he had agreed to desert his ideals. But with his daughter's life at stake, he also he knew his convictions meant nothing and he could do nothing else.

They were terrible burdens to bear; his knowledge of how weak he was. The mind-numbing worry over Luna. How were they treating her? Was she getting enough to eat? Was she warm enough? Did she have anyone to comfort her or was she all alone? Was she very frightened?

To ease his mind he made up a fantasy. A mundane, ordinary fantasy where Luna was just out for a little while. She had gone down to the stream to fish and she would be home soon. He pictured her coming through the door, proudly displaying a good catch of Freshwater Plimpies. Her shoes a little muddy and her robes damp at the cuffs. A leaf that had tangled into her hair and her cheeks unusually flushed for running home. And then they would cook the fish together, the way she liked them most and they would eat and talk and laugh as they always did when she was home from school. It grew into a very vivid daydream, a few more details added for every day. If he thought about it long enough, then he could almost believe it was the truth. Almost, for a few seconds.

And then Harry and his friends came, and he betrayed them, as he had promised to do. Yet even so, Harry took care to show himself for his would-be captors before he escaped so the Death Eaters would know they hadn't been lied to. Xenophilius was so grateful the torture they bestowed upon him felt of no importance. The prison cell though dank and unpleasant felt like a haven. Even more so when rumours trickled in that Harry had saved Luna from Malfoy Manor.

Then peace came, and he got his daughter back, but Luna was not the same. Her eyes were thoughtful when they looked at him, and he knew it was only a matter of time until she would find out. He hoped she wouldn't, but she was bright and inquisitive and he knew well how relentless she was when she went in search for knowledge.

Xenophilius had not expected how painful it would be when she finally understood what he had done. She stood there in front of him and he could read her feelings in her great, luminous eyes. Denial, surprise, shock, and then bitter disappointment, one after another.

"Why did you do it?" she asked, and he tried to explain. He wanted to tell her she would understand when she had children of her own. He wanted to explain how he had been taken hostage by life the first time he saw her, red and bawling her anger at having been born. That he, from that moment, would have done everything for her, over and over, if it had only kept her safe. But the words only sounded selfish, and he knew he didn't reach her.

Luna stayed out more and more, sometimes not even coming home at night. Oddly enough he didn't worry about her. He was convinced she couldn't come to harm, out in the woods she had played in since childhood. She found a job, working in the apothecary, of all places, and the job kindled a new interest in potions. He noticed she always carried her mother's notebooks with her. It seemed right and proper to him that she sought solace with the parent who had merely died and not trampled on everything Luna held dear.

It was tempting to follow her and find out what she was really doing, but he had always upheld the importance of privacy. Xenophilius was not prepared to crush another ideal into dust just because his daughter was rightly upset with him. She would tell him if she ever became ready to speak with him again. But her rejection hurt. It was no less painful because he knew he deserved it, and more. She was still there, he was grateful for that. She could have left, gone to one of her friends, but she stayed with him. He chose to take it as a good sign.

He tried to be there for her, even if she didn't notice. He cooked her favourite food and carefully bespelled it so it would be hot and fresh whenever she came home to eat it. He tried not to crowd her with his need for forgiveness. It wasn't easy. And Luna thanked him politely for the food, but she never stayed and chatted with him as she ate, as she used to do. Now she would disappear into her room and he dared not disturb her. He missed her so much it ached.

Her job seemed to exhaust her and he wondered what kind of employer she had found who had no problems in making a young girl work so hard. But she seemed happy about the work, happier than being at home with him, so he let it pass. She still seemed to care for him. From time to time she brought home a restorative potion. Sometimes he caught a look in her eyes which he thought was love, but she looked at him so fleetingly he couldn't be sure. Even if he tried to keep his longing for her forgiveness under wraps, not wanting to burden her with something she clearly wasn't prepared to give, he occasionally slipped.

"I miss you, Luna," he blurted out one evening as she passed him on her way to her room. She stopped and turned, though he could not see her face, the lights in the living room not quite reaching her as she stood with one foot on the first step on the staircase.

"I know," Luna said, and he thought it was all she would say, but after a brief hesitation she continued. "Give me time. Please."

"All the time in the world, darling, all the time in the world," he said, but he didn't think she heard him as she silently wafted away upstairs.

After that evening he nurtured a small hope that all wasn't lost, but Luna's behaviour didn't change. He became resigned, thinking he had asked too much. He had wanted to protect her, but in doing so he had hurt her and hurt her worse than anyone else ever had. The only thing he could do now was to wait, so wait he did as weeks turned into months.

One night Luna didn't disappear into her room when she came home. Instead she came into the living room and curled up on the sofa, leaning her head against his shoulder. Xenophilius had been looking at old photos, dreaming of the days when Pandora had been alive and the three of them had been a happy family. He didn't dare to say anything to his daughter, but he put his arm around her, hoping it wouldn't make her jump up and leave. But Luna didn't move and for a while they both stared into the burning fire.

"I'd rather be alive than dead," she said eventually. "Thank you for trying to save me."

He felt so overjoyed he couldn't speak. He only hugged her closer. Luna sighed and fell asleep, just like she had done when she had been a very small child. Xenophilius sat still, listening to his child's even breathing, and he cried. Luna had forgiven him. Perhaps, one day, he would also be able to forgive himself.

END


End file.
